


Atonement

by Khateeah



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Bondage, Breathplay, Choking, Collars, Confinement, Humiliation, M/M, Master/Pet, Rough Sex, Shibari, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-11 23:29:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9041945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khateeah/pseuds/Khateeah
Summary: Genji's a glutton for punishment.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Shimadacest secret Santa fill for @ziarenxolous. Prompt: Master/Pet go go! Young Genji being the pet. Young or present Hanzo is your choice. 

* * *

Genji’s shivering. He can’t see.

He’s been locked in his brother’s bedroom since morning, but it’s not the lock on the door keeping him trapped inside. No, that would be the work of the length of silken rope drawn in artful loops and knots around his thickly muscled sun-kissed torso, forearms stacked and tied tight behind his back, waist wrapped, calves bound up tight against the rears of his thighs. There’s a blindfold over his eyes, expertly placed, not allowing even the tiniest ray of light to reach Genji’s eyes. The cloth gag between his teeth is soaked in spit, a cold trail of it dribbling down his chin dripping down onto the top of one naked thigh.

He’s lost track of how long Hanzo’s been gone. Hours? Days? No, not days, but it feels like it, and Genji’s not sure how much longer he can last like this. It has to be well past nightfall by now, it’s been hours since the warmth of sunlight pouring through the broad, shoji-covered windows faded from his skin.

On his knees on Hanzo’s floor, Genji’s beyond uncomfortable. This is excruciating. Silently he curses the way the bumpy weave of the tatami mats digs into his knees and the tops of his feet. He shifts in his binds, strains to shrug off the stiff, throbbing ache in his shoulders and knees, the inevitable consequence of being bound in one place, helpless and motionless, for hours on end. Genji huffs a long sigh through his nose, his jaw stiffening against a fresh swell of anger as his chin droops, exhausted, to his chest. Hanzo said he’d gone to run an errand, but Hanzo lied. No errand takes this long. He knows Hanzo’s toying with him.

For the thousandth time, an impatient itch flares under Genji’s skin, a wave of white-hot needles burning like fire, poking and prodding him to the edge of his sanity. He’ll kill Hanzo when he returns. He’ll put him in his place, show him he’s got no right to treat a son of the Shimada oyabun this way--

_ Footsteps. _

Genji’s head snaps up, his body leaning toward the sound. He knows them. They’re Hanzo’s. They stop in front of the door, followed quickly by the click of the lock. The door slides open, then shut. Genji’s gut twists when the lock clicks again.

“Mm, my pet,” he drawls. His voice is deep, mocking, and it makes Genji’s skin crawl. A tiny tremble works its way through his hunched, prone form. “You’ve managed to behave. That’s good.”

More footsteps. Hanzo passes so close Genji can feel the warmth of him, the light stir of air brushing against his skin and the scent of Hanzo’s cologne.

“It’s a shame,” Hanzo continues, accompanied by the rustle of clothing, the clinking of his belt buckle. “You know I love to treat you. But this time…” Hanzo kneels beside him, and Genji jerks when he feels soft fingertips trace over the sensitive skin of his neck, the hard knob of his adam’s apple, “I can’t let you off easy.”

Genji shudders, unable to prevent the way he melts forward when he feels the soft, worn leather of his collar closing around his neck, helpless at the mercy of the familiar thrill of sensation it sends racing down his spine and flooding his groin. His cock, soft and untouched, swells rapidly where it rests atop his balls squeezed tight over the crease of his thighs. His breathing quickens, drawn in short, sharp pulls through the flare of his nostrils.

“Shh,” comes the smile of a whisper against Genji’s ear. The warmth of Hanzo’s breath pulls him closer like a magnet, irresistible, his body swaying toward the source. There’s a gentle tug at his collar, followed by the soft metallic click of his leash being fastened into place around the metal ring adorning the otherwise plain band of rich leather adorning his throat. “Relax…”

But then comes the cold, unmistakable press of the point of a knife against the skin of Genji’s inner thigh, and his whole body stiffens. Hanzo’s the most skilled wielder of a blade in all of Japan, but that doesn’t lessen the threat. It only means any slice into his flesh will be absolutely intentional. Its tip, razor sharp, bites against his skin but doesn’t break it, sliding slowly upward before hooking beneath the ropes binding his legs in place.

“Was I unclear?”

Genji shakes his head quickly, desperately in response, gulping down the whimper threatening to rise in his throat at the sudden chill that laces Hanzo’s words. The knife continues its ascent, slower, and Genji can feel each loop of rope tighten as its stretched by the width of the blade nipping his skin. The sensation makes his cock twitch, the danger of it rushing straight to Genji’s groin, and he scowls around the gag filling his mouth. He can practically feel the self-satisfied grin spreading across Hanzo’s face.

The blade stops. It lingers for a moment, motionless, and the seconds pass like hours as the sound of Genji’s heartbeat thundering against his sternum fills the silence ringing in his ears. Then without warning the edge twists outwards, slicing effortlessly through the silken ropes and freeing Genji’s left leg with a single calculated flick of Hanzo’s wrist. He frees his right leg in the same manner, leaving Genji visibly trembling by the time he’s finished.

Hanzo clicks his tongue.

“Tell me,” Hanzo’s words are nearly as sharp as his blade as his fingers find the knot of cloth at the base of Genji’s skull, pulling it loose. The gag falls away and Genji sags forward, flexing his jaw and stretching the stiff muscles against the familiar ache that fills them. “How is it you seem to have lost any semblance of discipline? Are you stupid?”

“N-no, Master,” Genji’s voice is rough from disuse.

“Are you lazy?”

“No, Master.”

“Then… what?” Hanzo inquires, sounding almost bemused, and Genji yelps when a rough hand fists into his hair and drags him upright. “You enjoy punishment? Is that it?”

“Master,” Genji breathes, desperate, humiliated. The throbbing flesh jutting from between his thighs is all the answer Hanzo needs, yet it isn’t enough, and Hanzo’s fingers tighten down hard in his hair. Genji gasps and hisses at the searing flash of pain that spikes through his scalp. “M-Master!  _ Please!” _

“Answer me,” Hanzo’s voice is smooth as silk, betraying none of the ire that smolders like twin amber flames in his eyes. The fingers of his free hand slide up Genji’s thigh, tips grazing over the dips and bumps of the rope imprinted in his skin before ghosting root to tip over the hot, deeply flushed length of his cock. The touch makes Genji shiver, and he whines when the pad of Hanzo’s thumb sweeps through the slick, clear bead of precome pooling over the slit.

“Disgusting,” Hanzo spits, abandoning his calm facade. “Tell me,  _ pet, _ what would your lovers say if they knew that Genji Shimada wasn’t satisfied by what they have to offer? What would they say, knowing he needs to come home to his own brother, have him yank him around on a leash like a damn dog before he can get off?”

“God,  _ Master…!” _ Genji cries as he’s thrown forward, the hand in his hair releasing him and sending him crashing face-first to the floor. Stars explode behind his eyes on impact, followed by the iron tang of blood filling his mouth. Dazed, Genji’s only vaguely aware of the strong pair of hands that grip his hips and drag him back to his knees, hiking his bare ass high in the air.

Hanzo hums at the sight that greets him. Blunt fingertips dig roughly into his cheeks, spreading them wider and stretching the soft, dark skin around Genji’s perfect tight pucker. “You’re lucky you’re so beautiful,” Hanzo whispers, cheeks flushing with the same hunger that weighs heavy in his voice.

Genji whimpers at the stretch. His whole body feels hot, the heat of Hanzo’s gaze searing into him and lighting up his core. Hanzo’s praise echos in his head, clashing with the scalding he received moments before. Hanzo is right. He’s disgusting and he knows it. Genji won’t ever be satisfied with anyone but his brother, and he smiles devilishly against the floor at the way that thought alone makes his cock pulse hot and heavy like a lead weight between his legs. Molten tremors of want clench deep in his gut, and he wiggles back, needy for his Master’s touch.

“So impatient, pet,” Hanzo muses out loud, his tone deceptively gentle as he takes the leash in hand and gives it a hard pull. The sudden pressure at Genji’s neck chokes him, leaving him feeling suddenly very vulnerable, all too aware that he’s utterly unable to protect himself with his arms bound behind his back. He understands it’s a warning. It isn’t his place to tempt his brother, his Master, and he knows the next warning will be far less lenient.

Genji’s counting on it.

“Master…” Genji’s plea is barely more than a whisper, thick and throaty with need as two of Hanzo’s fingers dig carelessly into his hole. He clenches his teeth, hissing at the pain as he’s breached with no preparation. But his body is used to this. Genji closes his eyes and relaxes, allowing both of his brother’s fingers to sink in together. He sighs, relishing the dry, rough pain as they pull and stretch the tender skin of his well-abused hole. He knows Hanzo hates how easy it is to fuck him. Hanzo hates how thoroughly used Genji is, how it reminds him of the sheer disrespect of his shameless promiscuity. Genji shudders. He can feel his Master’s hate in the way he moves inside him, cold and careless, fingers jabbing as deep as they’ll go and out at a viciously quick pace.

Genji’s moans fill the room, sensual and unashamed. He’s wanted this, needed this, ever since Hanzo had left him here, tied and alone, aching in suspense. But now he’s got him all to himself. Hanzo is his - his focus, his attention, all trained on Genji, and Genji laps it up like precious drops of water on the lips of a man stranded in the desert, each rough thrust, the palm pressed to his back his oasis of salvation.

A gust of breath sighs from between Genji’s lips when Hanzo stops abruptly, taut body releasing its tension and sagging heavily into the floor. He can hear Hanzo moving behind him, hear the familiar click of the cap on the bottle of lube, the sound sending a deep shiver down Genji’s spine from the base of his skull to the round, exposed swell of his ass still raised high in the air. He wants to beg, wants to plead, but he knows better than to say a single word as the tip of Hanzo’s slicked cock meets his sore, stretched hole. Begging will only prolong this, encourage Hanzo’s cruelty, and Genji needs this  _ now. _

A tiny whimper escapes him instead as he resists with every ounce of his willpower the urge to buck back, to impale himself on the fat tip and girthy, stiff shaft teasing his hungry pucker. He knows Hanzo can sense his desperation, but he doesn’t care. He’s being good, he knows the rules, and he almost yelps at the yank at his leash ripping him from his needy stupor.

“Barbaric. Rutting like an animal,” Hanzo scorns, “Is that what you are?”

_ “Y-yes…” _ Genji’s whisper is a shiver of breath as Hanzo pushes inside him, and he bears down around the intrusion. He’s rewarded by a low, throaty groan from behind. He knows the vice-like tightness of his hole is one of Hanzo’s greatest weaknesses. “I’m… f-filthy, Master…” he stutters, body jerking back and forth to the immediate, punishing rhythm Hanzo sets within him, “Ruin me, Master!”

Genji realizes his mistake before the words finish leaving his mouth.

Hanzo pulls the leash taut and wraps it around his hand until there’s little more than a foot of slack between his fist and Genji’s neck. He rips it back, dragging Genji up by the throat until he’s choking, propped upright on his knees, desperate gasps for breath reduced to strangled wheezes by the constriction of the collar around his throat.

The blackness of Genji’s vision explodes in stars. His head feels hot, his whole body thrums with energy. The frantic urge to escape his confines consumes him, desperate to escape the threat of suffocation looming larger and larger in his mind with each precarious second that ticks by. And Hanzo couldn’t care less. Hanzo, pounding away behind him, filling the air with sick, wet slaps of flesh against flesh as he fucks the life from his little brother, pushing him closer to the abyss of eternal darkness with each violent snap of his hips.

Genji can’t speak. He jerks weakly against the ropes holding his arms, the collar squeezing his neck, but it’s useless. Hanzo’s putting him down like a dog. Worthless, a failure, but for what? It doesn’t matter. He can’t think. Each thrust rakes over his prostate at the perfect angle, precisely enough to be overwhelming, skirting but not crossing the threshold of discomfort. Flawlessly calculated. Just like everything his big brother does.

Genji’s coming before he realizes what's happening, a sticky stream of white arcing up and out before splattering across the pristine tatami mats below. In the same instant, Hanzo releases the tension at Genji’s throat, catching his little brother’s body with one powerful arm while he convulses under the force of his orgasm, electric tremors sparking through his nerves from his loins out through the tips of his fingers and toes. Sweat-soaked and sobbing, the straining muscles in his legs give out quickly, and he collapses, boneless and weak against Hanzo's thick, muscled forearm. He's barely conscious, head dazed and swimming from the wild collision of sensation and deprivation, helplessness and surrender.

“Master…” Genji whispers, his back heaving, voice broken and hoarse as Hanzo lowers him gently to the floor. Hanzo stays silent. He's only vaguely aware of Hanzo's fingers working to untie the knots binding his arms, but the sensation brings a smile to his lips nonetheless. It's a tender reminder of the love and care Hanzo's always given him without question, even at his weakest, a mere object beneath the older man's ruthless and dominating will.

  
This is his place, Genji knows. Beneath his brother. Secondary, subservient. And he wouldn't have it any other way. 


End file.
